


Getting Down to It

by tawg



Series: The Dangers of Dating a High School Principal [14]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: AU - civilian Phil, Bottom Phil, Established Relationship, M/M, Principal Coulson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-13 22:55:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tawg/pseuds/tawg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Apparently there are some benefits to kind of getting your boyfriend's building slightly exploded.</p><p>Or: Phil and Clint enjoy a morning together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting Down to It

Clint woke up the following morning curled up on his side with Phil warm against his back, roused from his slumber by the sound of Phil’s phone vibrating on the bedside table. “Mph,” Phil grumbled as he reached over and grabbed his phone, before clearing his throat and saying, “Coulson,” by way of greeting.

“Your building was on _fire!_ ” a female voice proclaimed, loud enough for Clint to hear and he could feel Phil to wince at the volume.

“Morning, Nina,” Phil said flatly.

“Do you know how I found out? My cousin rides past your place on the way to work. She called me and asked if the burnt out _shell_ of your building meant we weren’t setting you up with Zergio.”

“You’re not setting me up with Zergio,” Phil interjected firmly, and Clint may have indulged himself with a smug smile.

“And so then I check the news sites and I find out there was an _explosion_ and I spent the whole time while I was doing my hair wondering if you were toast.”

“I’m not toast.”

“And then I go on Facebook and Matt and Cheryl are in this massive tizzy over whether we should cancel school if you’re dead.”

“I’m not dead.”

“And, for what it’s worth, I would totally be okay with having a day off to mourn you. Except now I have Lauren bugging me on twitter because there’s meant to be band practice tonight and would that be cancelled if you were dead, too?”

Phil grudgingly peeled himself away from Clint and pushed himself up on one elbow, peering at the clock beside the bed. “I’m not dead,” he repeated. “School as normal. Band practice as normal. I might be in a little late, but it’s school as normal.”

“What? No! You can’t come in today. Your building _exploded_.”

“Only a little,” Phil replied. “And—”

Clint reached up and pulled the phone from Phil’s hand. “It’s seven in the morning,” he said bluntly, his voice hoarse from a combination of the night before and sleeping with his mouth open. “Phil’s not coming in today. Goodbye.” He squinted at the bright screen in the dim room until he figured out how to end the call, then he dropped the phone onto the floor and flopped back down onto the soft mattress. After a moment, he glanced up to see Phil frowning at him.

“Look at it this way,” Clint said pragmatically. “There’s a lot to do. You need to get your apartment sorted out. You need to check in on Mittens. We’re lucky we didn’t get dragged to a hospital last night.” Clint would probably have to see yet another doctor, and if SHIELD was involved in the cleanup then Clint would definitely need to run interference. “And it sounds like she’ll just drive you nuts all day anyway.”

Phil sighed. “It would be better to get everything under control quickly,” he finally agreed.

“Exactly,” Clint said, grabbing Phil’s arm and draping it around his middle again. “In a few hours.”

“I see you’re being entirely selfless here,” Phil said as he settled back into the warm bed, absently drawing patterns on Clint’s stomach, making Clint squirm.

“Mmm,” Clint basked in the attention. “All for you. What happened to the spooning?” 

“We’re spooning,” Phil replied.

“You couldn’t give up the big spoon for a whole night,” Clint accused.

“You rolled over,” Phil returned. “You whined that your back was cold.”

“I did not.”

“ _Whiiined_ ,” Phil insisted.

“All lies,” Clint returned, and Phil chucked low in his throat. Phil brushed a kiss against Clint’s shoulder, and when Clint murmured approvingly Phil shifted his hand to grip Clint’s hip, parted his lips against Clint’s shoulder and tasted the skin there. 

Clint twisted around, cupped the back of Phil’s head and pulled him close for a kiss. Phil pulled his body away, and gave Clint the room to roll over and face Phil, to press their bodies together and slide his knee between Phil’s thighs. Phil pulled back for a moment and looked at Clint in the dim light of the motel room with a contemplative smile, and then kissed Clint again, firm and focused, his hand clutching gently at Clint’s side, his fingernails dragging slightly over the bare skin and making Clint groan.

“You like that?” Phil asked, his voice low and soft in the dim light of the motel room.

“All of it,” Clint replied breathlessly. He clutched at Phil’s ass, dragging Phil closer until he could feel Phil’s hardness against his hip, until their legs were tangled together and Phil was kissing him desperately.

Phil pressed against Clint, rolling him onto his back. Clint moved one hand to the back of Phil’s neck, slid the other up under the t-shirt Phil had slept in and gripped Phil’s side, tugging him closer until Phil was half sprawled over Clint, until Clint could grind up against Phil’s hip, hard and demanding. Phil moved a hand down to grab Clint’s thigh, his fingers sliding up and under the cheap cotton of the shorts Natasha had bought them and digging into the firm flesh at the bottom of Clint’s ass, and Clint groaned with approval.

Phil worked a hand under Clint’s other thigh and pulled his leg to the side, manhandling Clint until his legs were splayed and Phil was lying between them, pressing hard against the inside of Clint’s thigh. Clint froze, and Phil responded immediately, backing away.

“No, wait,” Clint protested, grabbing at Phil’s shirt and trying to haul him back.

“It’s okay,” Phil replied.

“Damn right it is,” Clint growled. “Now get back here.”

Phil tried to remove Clint’s hands from about his person and Clint refused to let go of Phil’s tee, and the end result was that Phil wriggled out of the top and sat kneeling between Clint’s legs, his hair messed up from the sudden exit from his clothing. Clint tossed the shirt to one side and, with Phil out of reach, settled for whining up at him. Phil’s expression softened from startled into apologetic, and he gently laid a hand on Clint’s thigh.

“That wasn’t a happy face,” Phil said carefully.

“I’d be looking a lot happier if you were on top of me again.”

Phil gave him a searching look. “Are you sure?”

“Phil, yes, Jesus.” Clint pressed a hand over his eyes, and then ran it up and through his hair. The back of his neck prickled uncomfortably. He was cold because Phil had pushed the covers back in his retreat. He was hard and wanting and not especially interested in having a deep and meaningful conversation right at that moment. “It’s been a while,” he said at last. “Since... that.”

“Okay.”

“It was just... fast.”

“Okay.”

Clint gave Phil a sharp look. “Could you stop saying ‘okay’?”

Phil smirked down at Clint. “Okay.”

Clint slapped Phil’s arm. “Jerk.”

Phil rubbed Clint’s thigh in a comforting manner. Then he glanced down and saw Clint’s reaction, and his touch grew firmer and more mindful. “So,” he said.

Clint curled his fingers around Phil’s forearm and tugged him forwards. “So,” he returned.

“We’re clearly able to articulate our sexual needs,” Phil said plainly, “and I do think we should talk about this. But.”

“But perhaps not right now,” Clint finished, pulling Phil close for a slow, lingering kiss.

“May I suggest an alternate arrangement?” Phil asked when they separated.

“I am open to negotiations,” Clint replied.

Phil moved so he was straddling Clint’s hips, and Clint shifted eagerly into place beneath him. Phil’s skin was warm, and Clint delighted in running his hands over the expanse of it. Up Phil’s sides and feeling the shape of his ribcage, over the hair on his chest, Clint’s fingers catching against Phil’s nipples. The way Phil bit his bottom lip at the sensation was a tidbit that Clint was going to store for later. Clint propped himself up on one elbow, pulled Phil close and mouthed at Phil’s chest, sucking gently on a nipple and then flicking it sharply with his tongue. Phil gasped and clutched at Clint, at his shoulders, his back, one hand hovering at the back of Clint’s head for a moment until Clint bit lightly at the pink peak of flesh and Phil buried his hand in Clint’s hair, gripping it and neither pulling Clint closer nor dragging him away, just keeping him in place as Clint explored that little bundle of nerves and all of the wonderful sounds he could coax out of Phil. Eventually a needy, desperate tone crept into Phil’s moans, and Clint forced himself to focus on the wider picture.

“What do you-?” Clint paused to drink in the sight of Phil, flushed and already looking so very close to debauched, and licked his lips. Phil took advantage of the distraction and shifted forwards, grinding his ass down against Clint’s erection, and it was all Clint could do to grab Phil’s hips and groan. “Okay,” he said, rocking his hips up once against the weight of Phil above him, twice when he saw the way Phil’s eyes fluttered closed. “Wait, shit. I don’t-”

It wasn’t that Clint didn’t have condoms. Clint had been very diligent in keeping an enthusiastic stash on him at all times since they had last tried this. It was more that the condoms were in his wallet, and his wallet was in his pants. Clint had no idea where his pants had ended up and had very little interest in calling a halt to the proceedings in order to go and find them. Sometimes pants were never found.

Phil made an incoherent noise and grabbed Clint’s bicep, used him as an anchor as he leaned over and snagged his own wallet off the bedside table. He dropped it onto Clint’s chest, the cold leather making Clint jump, and flipped it open. Within moments two condoms and a single-serve packet of lube also landed on Clint’s chest.

“Well,” Clint said, picking up the bright pink packet of lube. “Aren’t you prepared.”

Phil tossed his wallet off to one side, and then leaned forward, all but devouring Clint with a kiss that was hard and needy. And yet there was something unmistakably Phil about the way their mouths moved together, something careful and considered in the way Phil coaxed Clint’s tongue into his mouth and then pulled back, running his teeth along the length of it, something measured in the way he nipped at Clint’s lower lip, pulled back and watched Clint with dark eyes to check the reaction, to make sure that each new spark between them left Clint a little breathless.

“How do you want to..?”

“Like this,” Phil replied, grinding his hips down to illustrate the idea.

“Shit,” Clint gasped. “Yes. Fuck yes, Phil.”

Phil grinned down at him, his smile sharp and bright in the dim morning light.

“You think it’s funny that I’m so desperate?”Clint asked, hooking two fingers in the front of Phil’s underpants and tugging them down, running the knuckles of his fingers back and forth against the heated, sensitive skin near the base of Phil’s cock. Phil was so hard that the sight of him was mouth-watering.

“I think it’s hot,” Phil replied, his voice low and level, leaning over Clint so their faces were inches apart. “You don’t think I’m desperate, Clint? I want you so bad, I—. You think I haven’t thought about this? Having you like this.”

Clint whined, arching his back and grinding his hips up desperately.

“I’ve been thinking about sex with you for months, Clint. Thinking about you fucking me. You get me all riled up and then as soon as you’re gone, I—.” Phil bit his lower lip, silencing himself as he struggled to retain control. 

“Phil. Fuck Phil, soon, okay?” Clint said, his words breathless and a little garbled as he pulled Phil closer, as their noses brushed together and they breathed one another in. “But you gotta—.” Clint grabbed the little packet of lube and with some trouble managed to press it against Phil’s palm. “Last time I got this everywhere except—. And Phil, god Phil, I just—.”

Phil was already shifting away, getting enough room between them to shimmy out of his underwear and Clint all but tore his own off in his haste. An awkward tangle of legs and helping hands, and Phil with that little pack of lube, a corner of it held carefully between his teeth. Skin on skin felt so good, felt perfect, and Clint could have ground up against Phil’s ass, against the underside of his shaft until he came without any regrets. But then Phil was tearing the corner off that pink little packet and Clint had to reach between them and squeeze the base of his dick, had to pinch the soft skin of his stomach because this was actually, finally going to happen.

Phil had his eyes closed as he stretched himself open. Bit his bottom lip as his head hung forwards, one hand gripping Clint’s shoulder to brace himself upright and the other twisted away behind him. Clint had a hand on Phil’s thigh, one gripping his ass. His fingertips touched the edge of Phil’s opening and he could feel the skin shifting at Phil prepped himself with even, steady movements. Not a hurried rush of lube and fingers, but not agonising in slowness either. Phil had a calm focus about him and Clint held his breath for a moment as he watched Phil’s face, as he felt Phil’s body shift above him.

Finally Phil pulled his hand away. “You need to-”

“Yeah,” Clint replied, gazing up at Phil, at the way his lower lip was looking a little bruised and flushed. 

Phil opened his eyes and looked down at Clint, a lazy smile pulling up one corner of his mouth. “In your own time, agent.”

“Gotta respect the safety checks,” Clint returned, though he did manage to prise his hands away from Phil’s skin, to pick up one of the little foil packets still resting on his chest and tear it open with hands that were clumsier than he would have liked. He got the condom out with minimal fuss, but his skin was already slick with light sweat and the smeared precome of two people, and rolling it on was an embarrassment of slips and fumbles and apologetic grunts.

Eventually Phil picked up the second condom, pulled it from its packet, and rolled it on Clint with a complete lack of fuss. Phil kept a hand wrapped around Clint’s hardness, appreciating the weight and shape of it in his grip.

“I’m sorry,” Clint said, tossing the failed condom and the multiple wrappers to one side. “This must be—, fuck.”

Phil, with great intent, drizzled the remaining lubricant onto the head of Clint’s cock, slicking it up with light brushes of his fingertips. “Relax,” he said, his voice warm and fond and a little breathless. “We’ve done this before.”

“It didn’t count,” Clint replied as Phil shifted above him, one hand holding Clint’s cock steady. “It was— _oh_. Oh shit, Phil.”

Phil had his eyes closed as he lowered himself onto Clint, a little furrow of concentration between his eyebrows as he eased Clint’s cock inside, as he slid down tight and hot until flesh was pressed firmly against flesh and Phil let out a shaky, uneven sigh at the feel of Clint inside him. “Good?” Clint asked, and Phil made a warm, pleased noise low in his throat, put his hands on Clint’s chest and savoured the feel for a moment before opening his eyes.

They moved slowly. Phil rolled his hips forwards, getting a feel for Clint, for his own body, for the barely familiar bed beneath them. Phil shifted the angle of his back, raised up a little and lowered himself down and though his gaze never shifted from Clint’s face a softness entered his focus. Clint rested a hand on Phil’s thigh, his thumb stroking back and forth over a scar that had been red and fragile the last time they’d tried sex, that was still a dark pink line across otherwise pale skin, a fault line in the flesh. The back of Clint’s own neck prickled uncomfortably, reminding him of the burn there. They had been lucky the night before, and the realisation sat solid in Clint’s chest, made him more gentle than his body ached to be when he planted his feet on the bed and rocked his feet up to meet Phil’s downwards press. Made him intense and intent and the way Phil moved a hand to grip at Clint’s shoulder felt less like a mindless grasp for stability and more like Phil anchoring himself to Clint in that moment.

Clint had fantasised about frantic fucking and filthy words, but the reality of the hot heat between them and the easy way it built felt right, was satisfying a kind of hunger that Clint hadn’t been able to put words to as Phil rode him, and Clint thrust shallowly upwards and Phil made each stroke reach deeper with sure and fluid movements. Clint was sweat-slick and shaking when Phil’s heavy breaths took on a hard edge, when he had to lean forwards and brace himself against the headboard of the bed because the slope and speed of his hips had taken on a primal insistence. Clint wrapped his hand around Phil’s cock and Phil’s mouth hung open, incoherent sounds that were too solid for gasps and too earnest for moans tumbling over his tongue, falling over Clint and tangling with his own groans, twisting and tangling together towards sobbing gasps and a creaking keen as Clint’s body tensed, as he started to snap and Phil tightened around him, as Clint squeezed his eyes shut and bared his teeth and came hard with Phil’s knees squeezing against his sides. Clint’s hand flew over Phil’s skin as he orgasmed, dragging Phil’s own climax out of him without any real craft but a wealth of eager instinct to share that peak, to hear Phil groan and curse as he came hard with Clint’s twitching dick still deep inside him.

With a gentlemanly forethought that Clint would marvel at later, Phil came into a wad of white tissues that he had snagged from the bedside. They stilled, catching their breaths and staring at one another in the dim sunlight that leaked through thin curtains. Then Phil bent forwards and pressed his mouth against Clint’s in a firm, artless kiss. The angle of their bodies was wrong for the gesture and they soon parted, but Clint’s fingers lingered at the side of Phil’s face and Phil smiled down at him with a look that was so tender that Clint could only grin lopsidedly back, unsure of how else to respond and feeling shiver inside as his body thrummed happily in post orgasmic bliss.

Phil finally shifted with a wince, though the cause revealed itself when his hip cracked as he moved to lie beside Clint. “Just in case you thought I was getting any younger,” Phil said dryly, rubbing the crease at the top of his thigh with a frown. 

Clint took a moment to stretch languidly, cracking an elbow, a knee, and most of the toes of his right foot in the process. “Sorry, what was that?” he asked as he settled back into the mattress. 

Phil hummed in amusement and pressed a kiss to Clint’s bicep before reaching down and easing the condom off. A neat little clean up, though Clint caught the way Phil glanced at the bathroom. A shower was probably in order. He ran a hand along Phil’s damp back as Phil sat up and collected the various tissues and wrappers that had been strewn across the bed during their morning romp. A shower was definitely in order.

Phil paused, one hand full of rubbish, and frowned. “I have no idea where the trash can is,” he said after a moment, and Clint snorted a laugh.

“Here,” he took the mess from Phil and rolled himself out of bed. There was a small trashcan just inside the door, and another one in the bathroom. Probably a third one hidden in a drawer of the little faux-kitchen. Clint stood in the middle of the room and stretched again. His shoulder was stiff and the burn at the back of his neck was an itchy ache, but he felt good. And the admiring look Phil gave him from the bed was not unappreciated. Clint had just opened his mouth to offer a similar compliment when he was interrupted by a knock at the door.

Phil and Clint stared at one another for a long moment. “It’s better timing than we usually get,” Phil commented.

Clint scowled. “I put the ‘do not disturb’ sign up.”

“Optimistic,” Phil replied before getting up off the bed. “I’ll get it,” he said as he opened a closet and pulled out a thin looking robe. “Could you get the shower running?”

Clint heard the door open shortly after he had stepped into the bathroom, and a low exchange of voices. He had just gotten the water to a pleasing temperature when he heard a strange noise, and the sound of a body hitting the floor. With a horrible fear in his stomach at the familiarity of the moment, Clint darted into the living area.

Phil was standing by the closed door, a file in his hands. He looked up with mild surprise at Clint’s dramatic.

“What happened?” Clint demanded.

“Someone dropped this off for me,” Phil replied, tilting to file toward Clint to show it off. 

There was a neatness to Phil’s answer that made Clint uneasy. “Who?”

“Someone you work with,” Phil replied. “Sitwell?” Clint groaned. “I asked him to come back later and shut the door on him.” 

Relief washed over Clint, but he noticed that Phil hadn’t moved from the doorway. One of Phil’s hands was out of sight, and when Phil realised that Clint had noticed, his arm twitched slightly, obscuring his hand further. “I heard a noise,” Clint said. “A thump.”

“The door closing,” Phil said firmly. 

Clint approached Phil slowly. “Agent Sitwell is usually harder to get rid of,” he commented.

“I have a special knack,” Phil replied.

Clint stopped just out of striking distance. The file that Phil held was definitely SHIELD, and there was definitely a component of the story missing. “Show me your hand.”

Phil paused for a long, tense moment, and then shifted. A pink taser was in his hand. Mittens the first, small but mighty. Clint stared at it for a long moment without expression. “You tazed my boss,” he said flatly.

“He said that he was an adjacent line manager,” Phil replied, as if that made the situation any better. It was perhaps a little more accurate, but Clint doubted that it lessened the severity.

“Why did you taze my boss?”

“He wanted to come in, I said no. I felt threatened,” Phil answered levelly, and Clint gave Phil an incredulous look. “I’m not sure if you remember,” Phil continued, “but the last time I let one of your co-workers into my place of residence, I was dragged off to quarantine without the opportunity to contact anyone. The last time a SHIELD agent went to my workplace I had to endure veiled threats and intimidation tactics.”

“They didn’t seem to work too well,” Clint replied, remembering the time that Fury had visited Crosstown High, and amused and contemplative look the Director had given Clint as he had left.

“I’m sure that completely negates my point,” Phil said, sharp sarcasm in his voice. Clint looked at the open file in Phil’s hand. The document on top was headed ‘Fraternization with Civilians: rules and guidelines’. Apparently someone had decided that Phil needed an official briefing on dating a SHIELD agent. Clint had read earlier versions of those documents years ago. They all boiled down to ‘We prefer it if you don’t’. Clint considered the situation, and couldn’t help the crooked smile that spread across his face.

“You really tazed him?”

Phil inclined his head towards the door. “He’s in the hall.”

Clint tried not to laugh and failed, a snuffling snort escaping him. Phil wasn’t the kind to scare easily and, when it came down to it, Jasper shouldn’t have let his guard down enough for Phil to zap him in the first place. Clint shook his head in amusement. “You going to read that now?” he asked. “Because I’m pretty sure the shower’s good to go and I’m still naked.”

Phil smirked. “I had noticed that,” he replied. He dropped the file onto a bench and let Clint tug him in to the bathroom by the front of his robe.

~*~

They shared breakfast at the café downstairs, Agent Sitwell thankfully absent from the scene when they finally emerged from Phil’s room after a thorough shower and a brief discussion regarding personal grooming that consisted of Clint asking “How stupid do I look?” as he poked at the singed hair at the back of his head, and Phil assuring him that he looked fine so long as he was only viewed from the front. Clint inhaled a bagel and Phil did his best with a ham and cheese croissant that Clint kept stealing bites of. Clint gave Phil half of his coffee though, and Phil seemed happy enough with the compromise. They didn’t talk much as they ate, each of them turning over the tasks that lay ahead of them, but their knees touched under the small table they shared, and every now and then when Phil started bouncing his knee Clint would tap his shoe against Phil’s, and Phil would look over at him and smile.

Just as they were finishing their coffee and wiping their hands with paper napkins, Phil got a call from the Advanced Kitten Reconstruction Team with an update on their location and an invitation to visit his cat.

“I’ll head over to your place while you sit with Mittens,” Clint said, crushing his napkin into a ball and rolling it between his palms. “I can get all the SHIELD gossip for you.”

“That would be great,” Phil replied before finishing the last mouthful of Clint’s coffee. “I’ll give Mittens your love.”

~*~

Clint sauntered onto Phil’s floor as if he belonged there. “What’s the word, Agent Woo?” he asked, meandering over to the agent in charge.

“Good news and bad news,” Woo replied. “Structure is sound, and the gas leak has been isolated. The building is cut off until part of the line can be replaced, but it’s an easy fix. With a bit of TLC and a lot of bi-carb soda the place should be back to normal.” Clint looked around Phil’s apartment and nodded. The ground floor had the most damage from the ignition, and then the second floor had been victim to some opportunistic fires. The upper levels mainly smelled like wet smoke and sweaty fire fighters.

“Hit me with the bad news.”

“Both SHIELD and the insurance company for the building are denying responsibility for the incident. Insurance says the gas wouldn’t have caught if not for the agent getting shot at-”

“And SHIELD says there’d be no blast if it wasn’t for the gas leak,” Clint finished. “Right.”

“SHIELD also says there was no agent on the scene,” Woo added, “seeing as you’re ‘on leave’. Who knows how long it’ll take to sort out.”

“Great,” Clint said flatly.

“The landlord’s an asshole, but he doesn’t have the money to take us on and the insurance company isn’t stupid enough to do it for him.” Woo shrugged. “Insurance will work itself out.”

Clint frowned. “But will things get fixed?”

Woo gave Clint an amused look. “I live in SHIELD housing,” he said bluntly. “I got no idea how these things work. Go ask a real adult.”

Clint snorted, and looked around at the agents milling through Phil’s apartment. “So,” he said, letting the word trail off.

“Just a standard security check,” Woo replied. “Nothing unusual so far, if you ignore the fact that he’s got an old-ass tv.”

“Did you find where he keeps the spare sheets?”

“There’s a set of drawers in the closet. Sheets near the top, light blankets below.”

“Right,” Clint said, nodding absently. He and Woo stood side by side, watching as agents slowly performed a sweep for transmission devices. 

“If you have any suggestions for speeding this up..?” Woo suggested, almost idly.

Clint sighed heavily, and then looked around Phil’s apartment again. This time he did it with all of the suspicion and paranoia that SHIELD liked to see. He noted uneven plasterwork on the walls, fixtures that would have hollow spaces inside them, any sockets he’d never seen used. It wasn’t that Phil was under suspicion, exactly, just that SHIELD was suspicious of everyone. There were a lot of places to hide a microdot in a room, let alone apartment.

“Yeah,” Clint said at last. “I’ve got a few ideas.”

Phil had his own way of dealing with the SHIELD presence in their lives, and Clint suspected that acting as a buffer would only improve relations between his job and his private life. Phil had let Clint stay in his apartment, after all. Had looked relieved when Clint had intended to swing by and see how the scene was developing. Pulling up the carpet in odd corners wouldn’t be a big deal.

“You head looks stupid by the way,” Woo said as Clint crouched down. “Just so you know.”

“Cunning insight there, Agent Woo,” Clint replied. “That’s why they give you the exciting jobs.” Woo snorted, and let Clint get on with it.


End file.
